


Driving Mrs. WAverly

by Fran1632



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 11:39:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7616587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fran1632/pseuds/Fran1632





	Driving Mrs. WAverly

Driving Mrs. Waverly

 

This was hell! It might have a picturesque lawn and garden; a beautiful mansion and a pool the size of a small lake, but it was still hell. At least that's how Illya Kuryakin felt. He knew he would have to ease his way back into the field after he had been injured during a particularly nasty assignment but this was beyond belief. A body guard assignment! For number two section two. He hoped his partner, who had assigned him this job, had gotten a lot of joy at his expense. When he got back to HQ he was going to find a way to get even with Napoleon Solo if it was the last thing he did. The sound of laughter caught his attention and he turned back to the table on the patio.

Mrs. Millicent Waverly was enjoying herself immensely. She was visiting an old school friend and they were reminiscing about the old days. They had arrived in Martinsburgh Pa Friday and stayed for 2 days. Now it was eleven Sunday morning and she was finally ready to get in the car for the four hour drive back to Manhattan. 

Illya checked his watch then looked up to the clouds that were coming towards them. It looked like they were going to get some rain. He hoped that they would be back on their way to New York before the weather broke. He was joined by Jim Adams, the other agent assigned as their driver. He had been checking the car to make sure everything was good for the four hour drive home. Hopefully Mrs. Waverly wouldn't want to stop several times like she did on the way up.

It still took another forty five minutes before they were finally on their way. Almost onto the highway, Mrs. Waverly decided she would prefer to take the more scenic way back. The leaves were beginning to turn and they made a better view than concrete and transport trucks. Adams rolled his eyes at Kuryakin and veered onto the old highway. It was going to add almost an hour to their trip but neither one could refuse the petit power-house in the back seat. Illya contacted hq to let them know the change in their route and settled back in his seat.

Half an hour later a crack of thunder announced the arrival of the rain Illya had predicted earlier. It started slow but was soon pounding on the roof. The wipers were working double time to keep the windshield clear but were not doing well. Illya was about to suggest Adams pull over till it let up when a back tire blew and the car began to fishtail across the road. Unable to find purchase on the slick pavement the car careened off the road and over the shoulder. It settled after a full roll amongst bushes and broken trees.

Millicent Waverly wasn't sure where she was. She remembered being in a car then rolling around on the seat. There had been rain. A storm. She shook her head and groaned. She shifted her body and tried to right herself. Finally she got herself back on the seat and looked around. She was unable to see very much. Broken branches, shrubs and tree trunks were in the way.

Suddenly she remembered she hadn't been alone. She scooted forward to look in the front seat. Both men weren't moving. There was a lot of blood covering the driver and Illya had a gash across his forehead that was bleeding heavily. She reached over and felt for a pulse on Adams' neck. She couldn't find one. She checked Illya and found a steady pulse. She pulled a hanky from her purse and cleaned the blood from his face and tried to see if there was anything stuck in the gash. She managed to get the seat to lean back more and make Illya as comfortable as possible. The only thing she could do now was wait.

Two hours had passed since Mrs. Waverly had awakened. Rain had begun falling over an hour ago and didn't seem to be letting up. Illya had groaned once or twice but had not regained consciousness. She had begun to worry. She had managed to find a cup and stuck it out to catch some rain for drinking and had nibbled on some chocolate she had bought for her husband. She would have given anything for a nice hot cup of tea.

She leaned forward to check on Illya when the car shifted noticably.She froze. Slowly she looked around to see if she could see what was happening. The car lurched again. Before she could react to what she figured was happening the car dropped. The rain had turned the ground of clay to something slick and slimy. The car, having come to rest with it's front end out over the edge of a small ravine, had slid over the edge and onto it's side.

Mrs. Waverly found herself wedged between the front and back seat pressed against the driver's side rear door. It took her several attempts to right herself. Finally out of breath and patience she stood up and made her way to Illya who was still strapped in his seat.

'Mr. Kuryakin? Mr. Kuryakin please wake up."

She gently touched his forehead and he pulled away and reached for his weapon. It took a moment for him to recognize her and to take in his situation.  
He carefully unbuckled his seat belt, bracing himself against the dashboard. He let out a groan as a wave of dizziness passed through him. He breathed deeply as nausea threatened to cause him to be sick. There was no way he was going to be sick in front of, or on Mrs. Waverly. 

Once his body seemed to settle down he leaned over Adams and checked for any signs of life. His body was cold and there was no pulse. Illya took a moment to acknowledge the agent. He was a good man and would be missed. Mr. Waverly was going to be especially upset. Bad enough to lose a man in the field; but in a freak accident was an insult to the well trained machine that Adams was. He turned to Mrs. Waverly and his look softened as he saw her eyes were filled with tears. He smiled gently and accepted the scarf she handed him and placed it over Adams' head.

"Lets let hq know where we are." he said as he reached for his communicator. But his pocket was empty. A search of the car came up empty as well. He still had his weapon for which he thanked all the gods for. He found an extra two clips which joined Adams' special and clips he had gathered and put in his pocket.

Climbing into the backseat, Illya sat next to Mrs. Waverly and contemplated what to do next. For the time being they weren't going anywhere in this rain. It was coming down heavy and steady. Once the rain let up he would set out for the road and flag someone down or walk until he came across help. 

The car lurched suddenly. Before they could even move, it slid further down the side of the ravine and slowly rolled over onto it's roof; landing halfway in the creek at the bottom. The water was cold but manageable. They dragged themselves out of the vehicle and trudged through the water to the bank. Illya slipped twice trying to keep Mrs. Waverly from falling and the third time they both fell. They crawled onto land soaked to the bone. They sought shelter under the pine trees. At least they were somewhat protected from the elements.

Illya looked around and considered his options. They couldn't climb out. There was no way they could find any footing in the mud and wet grass. They couldn't stay where they were. Night had fallen as well as the temperature. They needed to find shelter. Fast. They would be sick by dawn if they didn't get warm and dry.

He finally decided to head back in the direction they had come. With luck they would come upon some shelter. They would have to make due until morning. They set off at a slow pace. Mrs. Waverly kept up with Illya and never complained. He would periodically stop and check in with her to see if she was alright. Each time he asked she simply said she was fine. He had to smile at that. He answered the same whether he was ill or wounded when his partner asked him the same thing.

By Illya's calculations they had been travelling for roughly twenty five minutes when they came across an old mining shack. Illya forced the swollen door open and they shuffled into the gloomy little space. It was dry and out of the cold. An old pipe stove sat to one side with some pieces of wood at it's feet. They were relieved to know they would be soon sitting in front of a warm fire. Together they moved to the stove. The floorboards creaked heavily and groaned loudly. Suddenly there was a loud crack. The floor seemed to heave and then collapsed. Illya and Mrs. Waverly fell with the floorboards into darkness.

The first sensation he had was silence. He couldn't hear anything. At first he thought his hearing was damaged but then slowly sound came to him. Water dripping softly and sniffing. He turned is head to look in the direction of the sniffing and groaned. He heard scrambling and then Mrs. Waverly's dirt streaked face came into view. She smiled gently.  
"Mr. Kuryakin," she whispered,” You’re finally awake. I was so worried. You've been unconscious for quite a while"  
Illya attempted to sit up but quickly lay back down as pain streaked through his left knee and shoulder. He panted through the pain and slowly opened his eyes.

"I don't think it wise to move. You seem to have sustained some serious injuries to your knee and shoulder. There is a lot of blood. Are you in much pain Scott?"  
Mrs. Waverly asked him.  
Illya looked at the woman carefully. Her calling him by another name was troubling.  
"Mrs. Waverly?" He spoke clearly and calmly .  
"Yes dear?" She looked at him with her kind eyes and warm smile. He couldn't help smile in return. "I'm Illya. Illya Kuryakin."  
"I know my dear. You are partnered with that kind Mr. Solo." She was busy trying to find a way to make him more comfortable and Illya watched her from beneath half closed lids. Satisfied she was fine he closed his eyes and tried to conserve his energy. He must have fallen asleep.

When he awoke he found that Mrs. Waverly had cleaned and dressed his wounds. By the looks of it she had used her slip. She had also cleaned most of the blood from his face. He shifted and groaned. She was at his side immediately.  
"How are you doing Mr. Kuryakin? Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?"  
Illya struggled to get to a sitting position. When he was done he was panting and sweating. He took in his surroundings. They seemed to have fallen into a mining shaft. He tried to see a way out.  
"Mrs. Waverly?" he asked.” Could you have a look along the shaft and see if we are close to an opening? Just be careful. Try not to touch anything or walk on any rails." There were train rails running down the middle of the shaft.  
She nodded her head and headed down the shaft. She was back quick.  
"There seems to have been a cave in that way." she reported. Then she headed in the other direction and was gone much longer. Illya was beginning to worry when he heard her coming back.  
"That way the tunnel splits and one way leads to the outside." she reported.  
"That is good." Illya replied.” Come morning we'll make our way to the road and hopefully we'll flag down a car in no time. I suggest we get some rest."  
He noticed that Mrs. Waverly was shivering and he himself was feeling the cold strongly. Before he could say anything Mrs. Waverly plopped down next to him and pulled her rain coat over them and snuggled up to Illya. Never in his life did he feel so awkward. He could just imagine the look on Alexander Waverly's face. He would not be amused. He didn't even want to think of how long his partner would tease him mercilessly. 

Alexander Waverly looked out the only window in U.N.C.L.E HQ. The rain was barely a drizzle as compared to the afternoon storm. He sighed heavily and turned away from the window as the door to his office slid open. Napoleon Solo entered the room.  
"Well Mr. Solo?"  
"We can't establish communication with Mr. Kuryakin or Mr. Adams Sir."  
Waverly harrumphed, and moved to sit at the large round conference table.  
His wife and the security men that were assigned to her were late by 2hours. After the first hour, HQ had been put on alert. They had to treat the situation as a possible attack by THRUSH. A search team had been sent out,  
Now, dawn was approaching and still nothing had been reported. It was as if they had disappeared into thin air.

Lyle Rodgers looked like the proverbial cat that ate the canary......and got the cream. He could not believe the information that seemed to have fallen out of thin air. UNCLE's golden boy and Alexander Waverly's wife were missing. Their mole in the UNCLE HQ had relayed the information as soon as word had arrived He was now waiting for the search team the Thrush leader had sent out to find and escort them back to his satrapy. He almost rubbed his hands together with glee. His promotion was in the bag.

The grey light of dawn filtered through the broken floor of the mining hut. Mrs. Waverly woke and looked at her surroundings. She was confused. She couldn’t remember where she was or how she had gotten here. She would have panicked if she hadn't had her younger brother with her. She stared at the man next to her. Scott seemed different. His hair was lighter and he was thinner than she remembered and very pale. But she figured it was because he was wounded. She carefully looked at the wound on his shoulder, eliciting a moan from him.

 

Illya slowly woke up. He could hear Mrs. Waverly talking to him but wasn't too clear as to what she was saying. He opened his eyes and struggled for a moment to focus. The pounding headache he had didn't help. Mrs. Waverly noticed he was awake and wiped his face and smiled at him.  
"Well finally Scott! I thought you were never going to wake up. How are you doing?"  
Illya struggled to sit up. "I am fine Mrs. Waverly." He pushed the palms against  
his eyes to try and stop the pounding. He felt her fingers caress the back of his head as she tisked. He smiled at her as he took stock of his injuries. His shoulder felt like it was on fire. He opened his shirt and saw a jagged puncture wound surrounded by heavy bruising. His knee was swollen to almost twice it's size and could barely be bent. He was in rough shape but he knew he had to get them moving ASAP. Mrs. Waverly was showing signs of serious shock and mild exposure. He didn't want to think what shape she would be in if they had to spend another night out doors. With her help,Illya found a piece of wood he could use as a crutch. The going was going to be slow but he figured they would reach the road within the hour.

Mrs. Waverly kept up a stream of conversation that Illya was having a hard time following. One moment he was himself, the next he was her brother Scott. He stopped by a huge tree so they could catch their breath. he leaned against the trunk and took his weight off his injured knee. What he wouldn't give for some pain killers right about now. Mrs. Waverly stood close to him and began shaking her head.  
"My but hasn't father let the garden run wild." she muttered.” I believe that he should have a talk with gardener. The man has obviously not been doing his job." Illya looked at her with concern and placed a hand on her shoulder.  
"Mrs. Waverly?" He spoke softly to her."Mrs. Waverly it is Illya Kuryakin. We had an accident with the car. Do you remember?"  
She turned to look at him and smiled.” Of course I do my dear. I'm not that forgetful."  
She straightened up and pointed in the direction they had been heading.” Shall we be on our way. Alexander will be arriving soon and I don't want to keep him waiting." Illya gave his head a shake and followed.

They had been walking for some time when Illya's knee gave out and he found himself sprawled on the ground in extreme pain. Mrs. Waverly rushed to his side.  
"Scott my dear are you alright? I am going to have a word with gardener myself. This is unacceptable! How is one suppose to..." Illya cut her off.

"Shhh Mrs. Waverly. I think I hear something." He listened carefully and could here movement further ahead. He pulled himself up close to the bushes and signalled Mrs. Waverly to come beside him. They waited quietly. Illya wasn't about to attract any attention to themselves until he knew who or what was coming their way.

Mrs. Waverly, on the other hand, had a different idea. As soon as she heard the noise she called out excitedly.  
"Gardener! Come quickly!" Illya pulled her back down and tried to get her to calm and quiet down.  
"Scott! What are you doing? Stop it! We're lost in this garden and you need help."  
"No Mrs. Waverly." Illya hissed. "We need to keep quiet until we know who or what is there."  
"Nonsense Scott. Don't be silly. And why do you keep calling Mrs. Waverly? You are acting so strange today."  
"Mrs. Waverly please!"  
"Millicee"  
"I beg your pardon?"  
"Millicee." He stared at her wondering if she had completely lost her hold on reality.  
"Oh for heaven's sake Scott! You know how much I love the name only you call me.  
If you continue to call me Mrs. Waverly I wont speak to you."  
Illya closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face and through his hair. He was in no shape to deal with this.  
"Alright Millicee. Please keep quiet. I don't think it's gardener. It may be someone or something else. Lets just hide here till we see."  
She patted his face and looked at him lovingly.” Just like we were children. Remember we played safari. Oh we had such fun. It seems so long ago now doesn't it? I miss those days Scott. I wish we could turn back time. I miss you very much brother dear. Why did you go away for such a dreadfully long time." She dabbed at her eyes and gave a little sniff. Illya had no idea what to say. He knew nothing of this woman's life. She was looking at him expectantly when he heard voices.  
Unfortunately so did she and she jumped up before he could stop her.  
"Over here! Over here! Help!" She took off and Illya hauled himself to his feet to follow. His knee had other ideas and gave out completely. He was still struggling on the ground when Mrs. Waverly came back with three men. He would have been so very glad if it weren't for the fact they were THRUSH. 

Napoleon Solo looked down into the hole in the floor of the old hut. He could tell that the broken and splintered wood was recently damaged. One of the agents from the other search team looked up from the tunnel below and held up a piece of torn material. It was dirty and covered with blood.  
"It's fresh Mr. Solo. The material is still white where it isn't dirty. It also looks like someone was lying down over there. There is blood but not too much. If it was Mr. Kuryakin and Mrs. Waverly they headed out in this direction" He pointed towards the entrance to the tunnel.” My guys are searching for their trail. We should find them within the hour sir."  
"Thanks Matt" Napoleon replied. He walked back out of the shed and sighed.  
Where there was blood there was injury. He hoped that it wasn't Mrs. Waverly. As cruel as it may sound, it was better for his partner to be injured than she. Illya was stronger and use to dealing with pain. Mrs. Waverly would have a harder  
time.  
Fifteen minutes later Solo was standing in a small clearing examining the ground where several foot prints were visible. He counted at least five. There had been a slight struggle but there was no sign of any more blood. As he contemplated his next move, a young agent called him over to some bushes. He wordlessly pointed to some scratches in the ground. At first Napoleon didn't see anything unusual. He tilted his head to the side and there clear as day was a picture of a bird, with the initials I N K underneath. Napoleon sighed and ran a hand through his hair. On the positive side he had learned that his partner was alive and the negative; he was now a prisoner of THRUSH. He also had no idea about Mrs. Waverly. The old man would not be impressed. 

Mrs. Waverly sat staring at Lyle Rodgers from across the table. Rodgers had tried engaging in conversation with her, offered here food, clean close and a chance to freshen up. She had refused everything. He had finally sent for Illya in hopes of using him to motivate her to co-operate.

She watched him with a cautious eye. She had refused everything he had offered. She had hoped that he would have sent her to be with Scott but instead he had sent for Mr. Kuryakin. She was confused. She desperately wanted to be with Scott and wanted Alexander to come for them. She could not understand what was taking him so long.

Illya had been resting when he had been grabbed by two THRUSH goons and dragged down a corridor and pushed through a door into a large room. His knee was unable to support any weight and he fell to the ground landing on his wounded shoulder. Pain shot through him, blurring his vision. He was grabbed again and thrust into a chair. When his vision cleared he saw Mrs. Waverly sitting across from Lyle Rodgers.  
He knew Rodgers from previous encounters. He was devious, sneaky and could be cruel beyond compare. If he wasn't careful this could go south fast and bring down a lot of pain and suffering on both he and Mrs. Waverly. He was going to have to be very careful how he dealt with things. He couldn't afford to anger Rodgers. The last thing he wanted was for Mrs. Waverly to pay for any of his mis- steps.

Lyle Rodgers watched the woman across from him. She didn't so much as flinch when Kuryakin had been thrown in the room. In fact she didn't take her eyes from him which he found quite intriguing. He smiled and got up. He strolled around the table to stand behind Illya's chair and placed his hands on the agents shoulders. Illya winced as a pain shot through his shoulder. He had a feeling he knew what was going to happen next.  
Mrs. Waverly," Rodgers began. He smiled and used a cordial tone. "I would like you to do me a small favour." She looked at him and politely smiled.  
"Young man," she replied.” I am sure you are aware that there is nothing you could say or do that would make me inclined to do anything for you."  
"Ah. I see. But you don't know what I am offering in exchange for your co-operation." Mrs. Waverly humphed and looked away. Suddenly, Rodgers dug his fingers into Illya's wounded shoulder with all his strength. Illya spasmed and cried out. Rodgers kept up the pressure. Mrs. Waverly who had jumped out of her chair at Illya's cry, rushed to his side and tried to yank Rodgers' hand from his shoulders. She was pushed away and landed on the ground with a thud.  
It took her a moment to catch her breath and gain her bearings. Rodgers let go of Illya and moved to help her up.

Once on her feet, she rushed to Illya who was slumped on the table breathing hard. She brushed the hair from his forehead and spoke gently to him. She suddenly turned on Lyle Rodgers and took two steps and slapped him across the face. Without missing a beat he slapped her back; sending her back against Illya.  
"How dare you!" she gasped.” I demand you release us this instance!"

"You aren't going anywhere!" screamed the THRUSH leader. "You are going to  
contact your husband and tell him that he will give us the location of all the entrances to UNCLE New York, all passwords and computer codes and a list of all UNCLE agents. He will turn this information over to us personally then will remain our prisoner. Only then will I release you but not Mr. Kuryakin. He is too valuable to us. He will remain here till we have no more use for him."

"I will never do any such thing." Mrs. Waverly declared in a tone that made it quite clear she meant it. Lyle Rodgers looked at this elderly woman with new respect. He hadn't given her enough credit. He thought for sure she would have been sobbing and begging for him to let her go. He was going to have to try a little something different with her. He signalled for the guards to take Kuryakin away.  
"Take Mr. Kuryakin to interrogation." 

Mrs. Waverly didn't react when the men took Illya away. She wanted to give the appearance of a strong composed individual. But inside she was terrified. She didn't want to think of what was coming next. The man gestured for her to sit down but she remained standing chin held high. Lyle smiled. She was definitely a brave individual but he knew for certain he would get her to bend to his will. Why? Because he would stop at nothing; do anything to get what he wanted.

The communicator on Lyle’s desk crackled to life. "The prisoner is ready for interrogation." a guard announced. Rodgers smiled and took Mrs. Waverly by the elbow and escorted her from the room.

"Perhaps after witnessing what I am capable of," he explained.” you will be more than willing to help set my plan in motion.” She made a derisive sound and tried to pull away from his grasp. But he held on; causing sharp pain to her arm. They entered the room where Illya had been brought. He was laid out on a table, arms and legs strapped to individual restraints. He was also kept from moving by a collar around his neck. This allowed him to move his head from side to side only. He had to be careful to not scrape himself on the stiff collar. Already his neck was red and swollen. He slowly turned towards Mrs. Waverly as she entered the room. He gave her a reassuring smile.

Without preamble Lyle signalled for the guard closest to him to begin systematically torturing Illya. He began with his wounded shoulder applying pressure with his thumb digging into the infected wound. He then went to his knee. Illya braced himself but could not prepare for the severe pain inflicted on him. The guard had taken a hold of his knee and twisted to the side as far as it would go. The pain was searing and Illya saw spots and his vision narrowed as he fought to control his body. 

Napoleon Solo entered Alexander Waverly's office quietly. The old man was again facing the window. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, ramrod straight. He spoke without taking his eyes of the view." I assume there is no news Mr. Solo?"  
"Ah.. no sir. We seem to have run out of leads. Mr. Slate and Miss. Dancer are checking on some Intel they received through an informant. It is random and more than likely will come to nothing but like I said we are at a dead end."

"I see." He huffed out a breath then turned to Solo. "Forty seven hours Mr. Solo.  
We are aware that each hour that passes increases the odds of us not succeeding in finding Mr. Kuryakin and," he paused and took another breath." Mrs. Waverly.  
The longer they are in THRUSH's hands the more they will be tortured for all information they have. They will use one against the other to get power over them. It is not a thing I wish to contemplate more then I have to.

Mrs Waverly kept her composure far longer than anyone thought she would. Finally she reacted and flung herself at the guard in an attempt to stop him from causing any more harm. She was violently pushed away falling and hitting her head against the base of the table. The world around her tilted and her vision blurred. She slowly got up.  
Lyle Rodgers was enjoying himself. He enjoyed watching others suffer because of him. He smiled wickedly and couldn't help laughing when Mrs. Waverly attempted to stop his man from torturing Kuryakin. He was impressed when she got up after being pushed. He could tell she was disoriented. He laughed aloud again as he watched her pull herself together and turn to face his man.

"STOP!" she screamed. Her voice echoed around the room. So taken by surprise the guard stopped his actions and exchanged a look with his boss. Lyle nodded slightly and the man moved away from Kuryakin. Mrs. Waverly was at his side immediately. She ran her hand over his forhead,brushing the hair back out of his eyes.  
"Your hair is getting so long Scott." she softly spoke. "Father is not going to like it very much."Illya groaned and tried to speak to her.  
"Mrs.Wav....Millicee you must not do anything. Do not help them no matter what they do to me. It is important that you remember this." Illya winced in pain and she wiped his face with the sleeve of her blouse. Illya appreciated the action and leaned into the soft hand.

Lyle Rodgers watched the interchange with piqued interest. The Waverly woman seemed to have taken leave of her senses and though Kuryakin was someone else. Even better a brother it seemed. He smiled wickedly. This had just gotten much better. He was several steps closer to his plan. He almost rubbed his hands together in glee.

Napoleon Solo was focused on the street in front of him. Not ten minutes earlier he had received word from Mark Slate that the intel they had received from a mole in the THRUSH satrap in lower Manhattan was correct. They had found Mrs. Waverly and Illya. He had reported to Mr. Waverly immediately and been ordered to take as many agents as needed and retrieve their agent and his wife.  
Everyone had radioed in and were getting into position. Napoleon screeched to a halt and rushed towards the side entrance of the old abandoned bank building where Slate and his partner Dancer were waiting. he checked his gun, looked at his watch and gave the signal for all teams to move in.

Rodgers approached the table and Mrs. Waverly spun towards him. She tried to shield Illya from him. He momentarily allowed her to do so. Eventually he circled to the other side and looked down at the agent. Mrs. Waverly put a protective arm across Illya's chest and starred at him. Lyle was again impressed at the strength and courage he saw in her eyes. He knew he had to do something to shake her defences.

Looking at the surgical table next to him, he picked a long thin bladed knife. He held it between his hands and slowly spun it.. Without taking his eyes from hers he suddenly plunged the blade into Illya's side. The agent screamed and tried to sit up but Rodgers pushed him back down. He left the blade in his side. He quickly brought his fist down with all his might onto Illya's bad knee. Again the agent cried out in pain. Mrs. Waverly, tears running down her face, kept yelling for Rodgers to stop. He gave a wicked smile and circled around the table to stand beside her.  
"Are you ready to co-operate now Mrs. Waverly?"  
"D..d..dont do it Millicee." Illya said through gritted teeth. The pain was excruciating and he was afraid he was going to loose consciousness. He had to convince Mrs. Waverly to hold on. Rodgers let loose an animal like roar and brought down his fist again; this time on Illya's shoulder. Illya made no sound. He simply slipped into unconsciousness.  
Mrs. Waverly thought she would loose her mind. She squeezed shut her eyes to try to stop the roaring in her ears and head. She had never experienced such violence. She despaired that she could do nothing to protect her brother.  
She could feel a rage building within her. It made her dizzy. She needed to stop this evil man before he killed her beloved brother.

Napoleaon.Mark and April ran down corridor after corridor searching. They could hear gunfire throughout the maze of halls and the odd explosion. The satrap had very few THRUSH members and in no time UNCLE had the place under control.  
They stopped when a patrol met them at the top of a hallway.  
"Everything's clear Mr. Solo. No sign of Mrs. Waverly or Mr. Kuryakin so far."  
"Ok." Solo acknowledged. I'll head down this way." He sent Mark and April to help clean up. 

Rodgers watched the play of emotions on Mrs. Waverly’s face and in her eyes. He could see her rage and he laughed. It was the biggest mistake of his life.  
Millicent Waverly hurled her petite frame at the Thrush knocking him off balance and sending him crashing to the floor. The gun he had tucked at his waist flew across the room. His head bounced off the floor and he saw stars. Mrs. Waverly used the distraction to crawl to the gun. She fumbled with it until she held it in both hands pointed at Rodgers.

Lyle Rodgers sat up, rubbing his head. It took him a moment to realize that there was a gun pointed at him. His gun, He scoffed and got to his feet.  
"Don't move!" shouted Mrs. Waverly. Rodgers looked at her and sneered. He'd had enough. It was time to teach the old broad a lesson. He took a step towards her. The last thought Lyle Rodgers had was that he had been out-witted by an old lady. He fell back to the ground ; a bullet in his heart. The last thing he saw was Millicent Waverly's face.

Illya Kuryakin was just coming back to consciousness when the sound of a gun shot exploded. He practically jumped off the table he was lying on. He frantically whipped his head around trying to see where Mrs. Waverly was. He let out a huge sigh when she stood up and came to him. She patted his arm and began unbuckling the restraints. "Everything’s fine now dear. No need to worry. We'll just be on our way. I'm sure Alexander is positively broiling mad. I've kept him waiting ever so long." She helped Illya sit up and looked around for something to help him walk. They heard foot steps rushing down the hall and she began to panic. She rushed back to Illya. She stood in front of him and pointed the gun at the door.

Napoleon Solo rounded the corner and came face to face with a gun toting Millicent Waverly. He quickly assessed the situation and spoke quietly to her.  
"Hello Mrs. Waverly. Ahh.....I'm so glad to have finally found you. We've been looking everywhere. How are you both faring?"  
"Where is my husband? I demand to see him at once!"  
"Ok. If you'll follow me we can have you with him in no-time.  
"No! I want him to come here. I don't know who I can trust"  
"Well you can trust me......"  
"You! Trust you? I don't even know you young man."  
Napoleon looked incredulously at the woman. "Ah....Illya?"  
"It's the shock Napoleon. She's been drifting back and forth for the last 36 hours.  
You best get Mr. Waverly here as soon as possible.

Exactly 23 minutes later Alexander Waverly walked into the Thrush satrap and was met by Napoleon Solo who quickly explained the situation. They were met by a doctor who requested to speak to Waverly before he saw his wife.  
"What is happening doctor?"  
"Well Sir, it's pretty straight forward. Your wife has suffered trauma and she has been off her medication. When an individual stops taking meds abruptly it can cause havoc. Add all the other elements she has been through and I believe she is doing quite well. We need to get her to calm down and let us in there to take care of Mr. Kuryakin."  
"Who she thinks is her brother Scott."  
"Yes. I'm not too sure what is causing that confusion Sir. I'll be better able to get to the bottom of it when we get her to medical."  
"Very well then. What do we do?"  
"Take this water and have her drink as much as possible. Give this bottle to Kuryakin. Both are laced with sedative. His will work pretty fast. Once he's asleep, she'll relax and will be easier to help"  
Waverly nodded and took the bottles and moved into the small chamber. He was taken aback when he saw the state his wife was in. Her hair was half falling from her bun and she was without any make-up. To him he never saw her more beautiful. He kept his emotions in check and slowly approached her. She was fussing over Illya when he motioned to her to look around. Her eyes lit up and her face broke into a beautiful smile.  
"Alexander!",she exclaimed.” You finally came. What took you so long? Look.  
Look it's Scott." She motioned towards Illya.  
"Ah....yes dear." Waverly hesitantly acknowledged. "Um here Scott old boy.” He held out the bottle of water.” The doctor says for you to drink it all up. It'll help you relax."  
Illay and he exchanged a knowing glance and the agent downed the bottle in one gulp. It helped that he was tremendously thirsty. Within moments he was sliding sideways and would have hit the floor if the two Waverly's hadn't caught him and lay him carefully down. Alex checked him over carefully and applied pressure to the knife wound. He gestured to his wife to drink her water but she hesitated. She looked with concern on Illya and brushed away the hair from his forehead.

"You'll watch him for me? I am very tired and could use a little rest."  
"Of course my dear.” Alex replied as she drank her water. Napoleon who had been watching from the doorway, pushed over a chair so she could sit down. He directed her back and helped her to sit down. Waverly came around and stood beside her a protective arm around her shoulders; her hand clasped in his. She leaned into him and let out a long sigh. Her head drooped and she closed her eyes. 

Alexander Waverly entered UNCLE medical and was met with the head doctor-Collins. He had been summoned by the physician to discuss Mrs. Waverly. He directed Waverly to his office and sat at his desk with a sigh.  
"How is she doing Matt?"  
"She's fine Alex. Coming back to normal. She'll be able to go home soon."  
"But?"  
"It's like I suspected when she was here for her physical. She is in the very early stages of dementia."  
"That explains her confusing Mr. Kuryakin with her brother?"  
"Yes. Everything else that happened just added to the confusion. I have her on some new meds that will help keep her on track but she will react extremely if confronted with stressful situations. It's best to keep her calm and surround her with stability and familiarity." The old man sighed and looked at the doctor. He seemed to suddenly feel all his years and then some. "She'll be fine Alex. She's healthy.  
She keeps busy. There is no reason for her not to continue as normal for some time." Waverly got up and thanked the doctor and headed towards the door. "Alex."  
the doctor called to him.” It’s best if you let some of the staff here and at home know what is happening." He harrumphed and quietly left.

The room was dimly lit. Illya Kuryakin lay on his side still under the effects of anaesthesia. The knife wound had been stitched up; his knee was in a brace and his shoulder wrapped close to his chest. His expression was serene. Next to his bed dozing quietly was his partner Napoleon Solo.

The door slowly opened and a head poked into the room. Mrs. Waverly silently entered and made her way to the bedside. She smiled down at the sleeping agent and brushed back his bangs. It was a movement she enjoyed. Something she had done to her brother so many times. She looked at both men smiling as she realized, she now understood the fondness her husband had for them both. Though he would never admit it, she could tell they held a special place in his esteem. They were good men. Loyal, devoted. She felt so much better knowing they were there to watch over her Alexander.

The door opened again and Alexander Waverly came in and stood beside her. He smiled at his wife and looked at his two top agents. Everything was back to relative normality. Overall the last 48 hours had proven quite beneficial to UNCLE. A THRUSH satrap had been captured, the amount of intel they had found would be of great benefit and though they weren't able to interrogate the ring leader, he was no longer a thorn in UNCLE's side.

"My dear, what are you doing here?" he whispered.  
"Just checking on....Mr. Kuryakin. I certainly put him through his paces didn't I?  
Waverly chuckled. "I believe it was a little more my dear."  
"I don't think he'll be in a hurry to be my personal escort."  
Waverly put an arm around his wife and gave her a hug. They remained silent for a time listening to the sounds of the men breathing.

 

"I'm afraid Alex." Millicent finally broke the silence.  
"Of what my dear?"  
"It was frightening and confusing. I couldn't seem to grasp what was happening. It was like I was watching instead of participating. And somewhere deep down I knew Mr. Kuryakin wasn't Scott but I was so confused. I couldn't...." She was becoming agitated and Waverly took hold of her hands and forced her to look at him.  
"My dear woman in the last 48 hours you have experienced more than some of my operatives do. You where in a car accident, cave in and abducted by THRUSH. You were told that the safety of a young man depended on you betraying me and UNCLE. Compound that with exposure to the elements, dehydration, hunger and lack of your regular medication and it's a miracle you are standing and not laid up in bed." She smiled and slipped into his arms for a gentle hug.  
"Oh! There is your shooting of a THRUSH leader as well." He gazed at her lovingly.” My dear Mrs. Waverly, you are the most courageous woman I have the pleasure of knowing. Rest assured, you are and will be fine." He kissed her then and hugged her to him. For a brief moment he allowed all the emotions from the last 48 hours to manifest into the hug. He blinked back tears and suppressed a shudder. She was safe. That was all that mattered. He would worry about what the doctor had discussed with him another day. Today he would celebrate that she was here with him and would be coming home with him. That is all he needed and wanted.


End file.
